


Finding the Holiday Spirit

by Emmilyne



Series: Our Lives As Heroes [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Holidays, Romance, post 4x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5517650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmilyne/pseuds/Emmilyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a decade of horrible Christmases Thea is ready to give up.  Spending Christmas Eve in the waiting room of Starling General was the last straw, she’s canceling Christmas from now on.  Unless, of course, her friends can convince her the best way to find a little Christmas Spirit is to spread it.</p><p>Or… Oliver and Felicity get a visit from a trio of very special Santas to brighten up their holidays.</p><p>Cannon compliant to 4X09.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Canceling Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Eve!

“I’m officially giving up on Christmas.”

Thea flung herself back onto a row of uncomfortable waiting room chairs, her legs dangling over the armrest of the last chair, her arm flung across her eyes to block out the obnoxiously bright florescent light.

It was Christmas Eve.  Just another in a long line of truly terrible, awfully tragic Christmases.  A decade of cursed holidays.

“Don’t say that, hon,” Donna Smoak said gently, still managing to smile reassuringly despite the hellish last 14 days.

They were in the waiting room directly across from Felicity’s hospital room.  Thea, Donna, and Digg had retreated here.  Not so Felicity could get some sleep.  The amount of medication she was getting meant she could sleep through just about anything.  In fact, they would all probably feel a whole lot better if Felicity would _wake up_ a little more.  No, they were here so Oliver could get some sleep.

Thea’s hypervigilant brother had finally passed out from exhaustion on the ugly hospital recliner he had shoved up against his fiancés bed.  There weren’t many recliners in the hospital, but the nurses had fallen prey to Oliver’s sad eyes and the number of times the big man had dosed in a tiny hospital chair and suddenly a recliner had appeared out of nowhere for the ‘dear boy’ to sleep on.

Not that Thea wasn’t grateful.  She was.  Completely.  No one could see her brother and not feel the need to do _something_ , anything to ease his suffering.

Oliver hadn’t left Felicity’s room in a week.  Not once.  In the first of the two weeks since Felicity had been shot, he left in bursts and starts.  Fits of unbridled rage that he had been unable to contain led Oliver to storm out and hit the streets looking for justice or revenge or…a human punching bag.  Anything.

But there was no one out there to give Thea’s brother solace.  The ghosts had vanished like their namesake.  Gone.  Leaving no trace.  No evidence.  Nothing.  It was eerie and terrifying.  The team had no doubt that they would be back.  That they were gone for good wasn’t even a possibility.  Thea could feel it in her bones.  They were still out there, hiding just below the surface, getting ready to return with a frightening force.

But for now, the team was left to wonder where the hell they went and why.  Was HIVE taking the holidays off?  Trying to lull them into complacence?  Trying to drive her brother insane?  The last certainly seemed to be working. 

Then Felicity woke up for the first time and Oliver hadn’t left her side since.  He used the bathroom attached to her room.  Occasionally, he could be convinced to take a quick shower there, but mostly he sat in the chair by her bed.  Talking to the doctors.  Holding her hand.  Waiting.  Hours and _hours_ of waiting.

“Thea, sweetie.”  Donna moved to sit at the end of the chair/bench/travesty they called furniture, settling by Thea’s head and stroking her hair.  It was rather nice. “Don’t give up on Christmas.  Felicity wouldn’t want that.”

Scoffing, Thea closed her eyes and nuzzled into Donna’s thigh.  She wasn’t above borrowing her friend’s parents for some comfort.  Parental figures were in short supply around here.

“Felicity’s Jewish.  _You’re_ Jewish.”  Thea wanted to ask Donna why she cared whether Thea celebrated Christmas or not, but that seemed too harsh and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt her feelings.  “Maybe I should convert.  Try Hanukah instead…No, that hasn’t worked for Felicity.  The whole holiday season is cursed.  For us, anyway.  I’m done.”

“That’s not true,” Donna protested gently and Thea cracked open her eyes to see the older woman smiling down at her.  Donna may look like a stripper, but she had better momma instincts than her own mother ever had.  Thea would bet Donna wouldn’t lie to Felicity about who her father was.  “The holidays were absolutely lovely until…well, sometimes bad things happened.  But if you give up on the holidays, then the terrorists win.”

Thea shook her head, then decided to move so that her head lie on Donna’s lap.  “It’s not just this year.  It’s _every_ year.  Every year something terrible happens during the holidays.  I tried to be optimistic this time.  Give it one last shot.  For Ollie.  The holidays mean so much to him.  He was so excited…” Her voice broke and her eyes started to burn.  She squeezed them tightly shut.  “But no.  Cursed.”

“It is true that December is rough around here,” Digg finally chimed in.  He sat with his arms crossed and his eyes closed, head leaning against the wall.  Until he spoke, he might as well have been asleep.  “Though May might be the worst.  Weird how it works around here.”

Donna laughed, but the sound was tense and brittle.  “Surely it’s not—”

“Oh, it’s worse,” Thea assured.

“What’s _worse_?”

Laurel appeared in the doorway, a wide-eyed, worried look on her face, her arms crossed and her eyebrows close together, looking ready to do battle.  “What’s going on?  Why are you guys out here?  Is Felicity—?”

Digg stood and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.  “Felicity’s fine.”  He guided Laurel to a hard vinyl chair.  “Oliver finally passed out.  We’re sitting here so the _chatter_ doesn’t wake him.” 

He sent Thea a look that implied that it was her that couldn’t keep quiet and she rolled her eyes.  Nothing wrong with a little conversation.  That damn man could probably sit there as silent as a statue for an entire day.  The quiet was deafening.

“So…” Laurel looked around the room taking everyone in with keen eyes.  “Felicity… _everything…_ is ok?”  As the only one of them with an actual paying day job…well, other than Felicity…. Laurel couldn’t keep up the constant vigil the rest of them could.  But she did her best to be in the hospital with the team as much as possible.

“Very,” Donna reassured, continuing her soothing strokes of Thea’s hair.  “Felicity’s doing much better.”

“Define better,” Thea muttered under her breath.

“Thea...” Digg hissed, making her wince.  Crap.  No freaking out injured friend’s mother.  Right.  She needed to remember that.

“Felicity looks a lot better today,” Thea forced herself to say. “Better then yesterday,”

And it was true.  Given that yesterday Felicity had a tube down her throat.  Of course, she didn’t look nearly as good as she had _five days ago_ , when after finally starting to look like herself again, she had gotten _pneumonia_ from the chest tube that was draining fluid after one of the _three_ bullets that hit her had punctured a lung.  Good times in Star City. 

Digg cleared his throat, sending Thea another warning look, which was unfair, since she had just said something very encouraging.  Turning to Laurel, John explained, “Felicity was extubated early this morning.”

For the second time in as many weeks.

“She’s breathing on her own.”

If those raspy sounds counted as such.

“And she spoke this afternoon,” Donna chimed in.

Thea sat up, her eyes snapping to Donna’s face.  “She _did_?”  How did Thea not know this?  “What did Felicity say?”  Did she sound desperate for good news?  She didn’t want to sound desperate.

Donna’s face screwed up and, in that moment, she looked so much like Felicity it was heartbreaking.  And maybe a little comforting too.  “Well…I think she said ‘Oliver doughnut.’”

It felt like a kick to the chest and Thea knew that she hadn’t succeeded in hiding the disappointed look on her face when Laurel leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on her knee.  “Hey, it’s normal for people to be a little incoherent after all this.  At least Felicity’s talking.”

“It _was_ coherent,” Donna insisted.  God, she was even more optimistic than Felicity.  How could that be? “She loves doughnuts.  She hasn’t eaten in days, so…” Donna trailed off, undoubtedly realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

“Actually,” Digg interrupted, giving them all a soft smile.  “I’m pretty sure what Felicity said was, ‘Oliver, don’t go.’”

“Oh.” Donna chuckled, visibly relaxing.  “That makes much more sense.  See, hon, completely coherent.”

The pessimist in Thea wanted to claim John was just saying that to make them feel better, but, truthfully, Thea wasn’t sure that Felicity inarticulately calling for her brother was all that comforting.  Romantic?  Sure.  Tragic?  Probably.  Comforting…?

“So, what was the ‘worst?’ Laurel asked, pulling Thea’s attention back to the previous discussion.

Slumping into her chair and indulging her own childishness, Thea muttered, “The holidays.”

“Thea’s swearing off Christmas,” Digg, oh-so-helpfully, added.

“And Hanukah and New Years and…all of December, actually,” Thea clarified.  Might as well be thorough. 

Laurel sighed, slumping a little herself.  “They really have sucked lately, haven’t they?”

“Oh, not you too!”  Donna burst out. “What you all need is a little holiday spirit.  I’m heading to the coffee shop downstairs.  They make a divine Gingerbread Latte.  Who wants one?” she asked, springing to her feet. 

Thea and Laurel’s hands immediately shot into the air, because brooding or not, neither of them were one to turn down caffeine.  Donna turned her eyes to Digg, who smiled a charming smile.  “They have an Eggnog Latte?”

“Absolutely!  Lattes for all and maybe some of those adorable frosted Snowmen cookies,” Donna promised, clasping her hands together.  “Nothing says holiday cheer like sugar and caffeine.”

“Here!  Here!”  Laurel agreed with appropriate enthusiasm.  ‘Cause… _sugar and caffeine_.

As soon as Donna was gone, Digg turned to Thea, his elbows coming to rest on his knees.  “Thea—”

“I know.  I know.”  Thea scrubbed her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes.  “I shouldn’t be so negative around Donna.”

“You shouldn’t be so negative _at all_ ,” John insisted, his voice low and gentle.  “Felicity is going to make it.  The doctor’s said—”

“The doctor’s _said_ she’d be up and walking by Christmas,” Thea snapped.  Because she was sick of these damn doctors and their false predictions and their hedging bets and their inability to fix _anything_.

John sighed.  “So, there were complications.”

“Yeah,” Thea huffed, “just a little.”

“ _Thea_ ,” Diggs warning tone was a little harder this time.

And she really wasn’t in the mood to hear it.  “I _know_ , ok?  It’s just so hard to see them like _this_ ,” Thea gestured wildly across the hall.  At the moment, she wished there was something, someone for _her_ to hit.  “Do you know how much Ollie use to love Christmas? But every year, the holiday just gets worse and worse.”  It was so unfair.  They were spoiled brats when they were kids and Christmases were magical, now all the good Oliver and Felicity do…and this is their reward?  “It couldn’t get worse than this.”

“Oh, it could get a lot worse,” Digg argued.  “And I’m _certain_ that Oliver would agree that this hasn’t been his worst Christmas.”

“There _were_ those five years on a deserted island,” Laurel added with a smile, clearly trying to inject humor.  She wasn’t successful.

“And I _know_ ,” Digg insisted, “Felicity would say this is a step up from last year.”

Thea laughed incredulously.  “Felicity was shot _three_ times!  And this _wasn’t_ her worst holiday season ever?”

Digg just shook his head.  “Nope.” His lip tipped up in a half smile, but his eyes were haunted. 

“Just because Oliver was in jail last…”  Thea’s heart skipped a beat and she could feel the color drain from her face.  “Oliver wasn’t in jail last Christmas, was he?”

“Nope.”

“John, what are you talking about?” Laurel demanded, turning on him as well.  Sometimes, it felt like there would never be an end to all the things they didn’t know about each other.

Digg sighed, running his hands over his face.  “A week before Christmas last year, Oliver went to duel Ra’s Al Gul.  It was a duel to the death.”

When he didn’t continue, Laurel, prompted, “And?”  Seriously, Digg and Oliver couldn’t just tell a story.  They just _had_ to tell everything in drips and drabbles, make them work for every sentence.

John just shook his head.  “And…nothing.  That’s what we had heard by Christmas.  _Nothing_.  Oliver left for the middle of nowhere to duel to the death and we didn’t hear a thing for weeks.  If the bags under her eyes were any indication, I’m pretty sure Felicity spent Christmas Eve crying herself to sleep.  And I…I spent my daughter’s first Christmas trying to keep her and Roy from panicking, when I felt pretty panicky myself.”

Thea turned to Laurel.  “You didn't know any of this?”

“I…”  Laurel’s mouth opened and closed again.  “Honestly, last Christmas I was so messed up with Sara's death and my mom finding out and lying to my dad…”  She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Right.”  And that was Thea’s fault too.  She tipped her head back and stared up at the stained ceiling.  “I think this just proves my point.  Christmas in Staring, or Star City, or whatever you want to call it, is _cursed_.”

“So, where _was_ Oliver?” Laurel asked, eyeing Digg.

“Recovering from a stab wound in a hovel in Tibet, I believe.”

Laurel shook her head.  “Wow.  At least, Felicity made it to the hospital.   What's _with_ the holidays and hospitals anyway?   Two years ago my dad was in the hospital.  The year before that, Ollie got in that motorcycle accident…oh God, it wasn't a motorcycle accident, was it?”

“Nope.”

Thea threw her hands up in frustration.  “What kind of answer is _that_!  Where is Felicity when you need her?  She's the only one of you people who knows how to fucking communicate.  What I wouldn't give for one of her awkward tangential rambles right now.” Thea broke off with a sob, the tears having crept up on her.  “We need Felicity,” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut.

It was only when Thea felt an arm come around her that she realized that Laurel had moved next to her. Laurel pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “As soon as she's feeling up to it, we’ll get Felicity to tell us everything.   We’ll ply her with ice cream as a bribe.  She won’t be able to resist after all the awful hospital food.”

“I'm sure Felicity would be happy to do that,” Digg added, his own voice rough with emotion.

But Thea just frowned at him.  “Are you going to tell us why Ollie was in the hospital three years ago or do we have to wait for Felicity?” she snapped, feeling petulant.

Digg frowned, crossing his arms again.  Thea almost thought he was going to do just that, but then he said, “The Dark Archer beat the tar out of him.”

“The Dark Archer?” Thea repeated.  “You mean my _father_?”  Digg nodded just once, his frown deepening.  “Of course, it was.  Of _course_.”  Memories of that Christmas washed over her as she tried to assimilate the new information.  “That was the year Walter disappeared.  Also Malcolm’s doing.  Yup, definitely canceling Christmas next year.  And every year.  Forever.”

 “Well, I have a 15-month old who would be pretty disappointed if you did that,” John argued with a sad smile.

Great.   Now Thea felt guilty again.   “I'm sorry, John.  I wouldn't want to ruin your Christmas with Lyla and Sara.  You should be home.  Christmas is about kids.”

“Christmas is about _family_ ,” Digg corrected.   “The people in this room and across that hall, you are family as well.”

“Aww.”  Laurel leaned over and kissed Digg on the cheek, making him grin.  For real this time.

“And, honestly, Thea,” Digg continued, “if I know Oliver and Felicity.  And I do, better than anyone.   They are just happy to be alive and together.”

Was being together enough?   Thea supposed that after all they'd been through, it probably was.  As long as Felicity stayed alive, that was.  Thea remembered Oliver and Felicity’s dopy, lovesick smiles at the Christmas Tree Lighting.   There wasn't a person there who couldn't feel their joy when Oliver proposed.   It was beautiful.  

But the _aftermath_.  Thea had to purposely force her mind away from the aftermath.  Just as she had to force herself to keep from thinking of all the people she wished she could spend Christmas with, but we're out of her reach.

Digg was right.   Thea had to focus on the family she still had and be grateful at the new members that were being added.  Focusing on what was lost could destroy her.

They lapsed into silence and Thea didn't know how long it was before Laurel finally announced, “Ok.   I think we've sulked enough.”

 “But sulking is a Thea Queen Christmas tradition,” Thea protested, in a half mocking whine.  “The only one I've been really consistent with this last decade.” 

Laurel sent her a look and Thea met it with her best morose pout, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore and they both dissolved into laughter. 

“Maybe we need some new holiday traditions,” Laurel finally said, pulling Thea into a one- armed hug.

“Canceling Christmas would be easier,” Thea argued. But, this time, there was no heat behind her words and she let her head fall to Laurel’s shoulder.

“We could start with, maybe, counting our blessings,” Digg suggested.  “Since our resident optimist is laid up, we need someone to step up for a while.  If it has to be me, we are really in trouble.”

Thea swallowed a laugh and Laurel winked down at her, saying, “Well, we didn't have any _actual_ deaths in 2015.  So…yay us.”

Digg laughed. “That's true.  Just a bunch of _almost_ deaths.”

“Several resurrections.”

“One faked death.”

Thea tried and failed to keep from smiling.  “And a partridge in a pair tree?”

“Hey,” Digg admonished, “two resurrected siblings are _much_ better than two French hens.”

“Way better,” Laurel agreed, seriously.

This time, Thea gave into a grin, but her amusement was short-lived.  She had always thought that it was a silly song.  The only thing worth getting was the five gold rings, but it had been her father’s favorite, so they’d sung it all the time…

_God_.  Thea wished she'd never brought this up.   Sulking and being irritable, that was the easy way to deal with the holiday.  She could _do_ bitter and defensive, but if they were going to make her _feel_ , and God forbid, remember…

Thea squeezed her eyes shut against the hot tide of tears.  She wanted her walls back, she wanted to brood.  She wanted to _cancel_ Christmas.  She did not want _this_.

_This_ was missing her father, because even if Robert Queen was a philandering jerk, he was a warm father who made the holiday merry.  It was missing her mother who sat with her even when neither of them felt like celebrating, eating Oreos and watching old movies.  It was missing Roy…God, Thea missed Roy.

Even if Roy wasn’t dead.  Even if she had Alex now.  Maybe the engagement had made Thea miss Roy even more.

And, perhaps, Thea was even missing Oliver, who had disappeared into a world that revolved around every breath Felicity took.  Thea missed Felicity too.  But, more than that, she was so worried that she'd lose the both of them for good, because if Felicity died everything good that had become of her brother would die with her and Thea was, genuinely, scared of what would be left. 

But whatever it was, Thea was certain of one thing.  It would leave her alone.  Again.

Ugh!  She was so _goddamn_ pathetic.  This pity party she was indulging in was nothing short of selfish.  Thea knew that, but she was having a really hard time being mature right now, even if she wanted to be.

This was her family now.  Digg and Laurel, Oliver and Felicity.  Even Donna and Captain Lance.  It was a _good_ family and Thea wanted to be strong for them, to be an equal.  She didn't want them to think of her as the baby she so clearly was.

The funny thing was Thea used to _love_ being the baby.  Especially at Christmas time.  She couldn't help but remember Christmas Eves when she had been blissfully ignorant of all the horrible things in this world.  When everything was warm and bright and magical.   Hot tears once again slipped from her closed eyelids.

“Do you know the last time I was happy at Christmas? Truly Happy?” Thea asked without opening her eyes.

There was a beat of silence, then Laurel quiet answered, “Tell us.”

Her tone was sisterly and kind.  It made Thea ashamed of herself, ashamed that she needed to be taken care of.  And, also, so incredibly grateful to have found a surrogate sister, an adopted family.

“I was eleven,” Thea began.  “It was the last Christmas before the Gambit.  I adored Christmas.  I still believed in Santa for God’s sake—”

“Really?” Laurel asked incredulously, “Because—”

“Well, maybe not _really_.  Well, actually, not at all, but I wasn't going to admit that to anyone, not even myself.  It was all too wonderful to lose, ya know?”

Dig smiled.  “I bet you were a fun kid.”

Thea let out a short laugh.  That was one way to put it.  “I was so ‘ _fun’_ that I snuck out to watch for Santa.  But I really must have known, because I wasn't even a little disappointed to watch Dad and Ollie set up everything under the tree.  They were so happy.  It was the one time of year that they never fought.  They were humming Christmas songs and Ollie was so excited.  I got this gymnastics set…I know, I was spoiled… Ollie put it together.   It must have taken an hour, but I watched the whole time and Ollie never lost his smile.  My own personal Santa.”

Ten months later her father and brother they got on a boat and took the magic with them.  It never came back.

There was a sniffle by the doorway and Thea looked up to see Donna in a blue Santa hat, a tray of drinks in one hand, and a festive bag in the other. 

“That is the _sweetest_ story,” Donna enthused, placing the bag on a side-table and offering Digg his drink, which he took with a grateful smile.  “How wonderful your Christmases must have been.  You are _so_ lucky to have Oliver as a big brother.”

Thea hastily sat up and ran a sleeve across her eyes, uncaring that she was way too old for such a behavior. “Yeah,” was all she managed to say.

“He certainly had his moments,” Laurel agreed with a wry smile, accepting her drink as well.  “Thank you, Donna.”

“Anytime, hon.”

“He was wonderful _._   _Is_ wonderful,” Thea mumbled.  “I wish I could be, I don't know, wonderful for him too.”  Donna handed her a steaming drink and a perfect white snowman cookie with M &M buttons and Thea almost started crying again.  “You're kinda wonderful too, Donna.”

“Oh, you are a such sweetpea.”  Donna dropped a kiss to the top of Thea’s head.  The upside of acting like a child was that she got showered with affection.  “And you _are_.  Wonderful for Oliver, that is.  Just by being here.  It helps him keep going.  I know he's grateful.”

It didn't feel like nearly enough and not even Laurel and Digg chiming in to agree with Donna would convince Thea otherwise. 

Donna must have been able to tell, because she sat down on Thea’s other side and grabbed her hands, continuing fervently, “I am absolutely certain that you just being here, being _you_ , makes Oliver’s Christmas brighter.  Isn't that what the holiday is about?  Family?  Giving?  Isn't that what your lovely story shows?”

Thea nodded, because she agreed that Christmas was about family and giving, but…she really didn't see what she had to give.  Other than negativity and terrible luck, that is.  Thea didn't even have any presents to offer this year.  She hadn't had time to shop.  First, there had been an Immortal and surprise trip to Central City.  Then, just as Thea was starting to make her list they were kidnapped.  And _then_ the shooting…

Procrastinating really didn't work well with the life of a vigilante.  Next year, _if_ Thea didn't cancel Christmas, she'd have to shop in September, just in case.   

After a moment, Laurel turned to Digg, saying, “John, why don't you go home to your family? We've got this.”  

But Digg shook his head.  “I'll stay another hour or two.   I’ll spend tomorrow with Sara and Lyla.  And, besides, Sara won't be easy to put to sleep tonight.  If I come home now, it will just wind her up.   I'm better off waiting for Lyla to get her to sleep, then sneaking in to play Santa.”  He had his soft daddy smile on. 

Digg was such a good daddy, like Robert, like Oliver…who wasn't a daddy yet, but should be because he would be just _that_ good at it.  At making a little girl, or boy’s, holiday magical. 

Thea sipped her latte and bit off her snowman’s head, imagining Digg at home playing Santa just like Oliver had.  Playing Santa...

Suddenly, Thea’s eyes were dry and her heart was pounding, only not with fear this time. 

They were right.  Thea was looking at this all wrong.   Christmas wasn't what the world did to you, good or bad.  It was what loved ones did for one another.  And if Thea wanted a little Christmas spirit, she was going to have to spread some.

Because selfishness was the _last_ thing the season was about. 

She must have been grinning like a loon, because Laurel frowned at her, saying, “Thea, you ok?  Because this is a good latte, but it's not _that_ good.” 

Thea just grinned wider, throwing her arm around Donna, “Is there anything in your religion that would make you opposed to playing Santa and spreading a little holiday cheer?”   There wouldn't be a lot of options this late on Christmas Eve, but there was a Wall-mart around the corner guaranteed to be open until midnight at least.   They'd better hurry.

“Absolutely not,” Donna assured, her eyes lighting up.  

Jumping up and turning to Laurel, Thea held out her hand for her friend.  “I think I figured out how to regain some Holiday Spirit.  Come on. Digg can hold down the fort here.” 

Laurel laughed, allowing herself to be dragged up.  “What are you up to?” 

“We're taking back Christmas.  Who says you have to have kids to play Santa?  And who says only kids need a little magic?”

“Certainly not me.” Donna already had her purse over her shoulder and her arm around Thea's waist.

Thea squeezed her back, announcing, “Well, personally, I think we all need a little Christmas magic.  And that goes double for those two across the hall.”

It was time to give back.


	2. Santa’s workshop

"Oliver."

He jerked awake at the sound of Felicity's distressed voice, instantly alert and standing, leaning over her bed. “Hey, hey, shhh,” Oliver hummed, his eyes flicking between her face and monitors, looking for a source of distress. “I'm here. What do you need? I'm here.”

Felicity reached for him and he took her hand between both of his. “Ol-ver,” she slurred, relaxing a bit at his touch and squinting as she looked beyond him. “I…I think I'm halluc…hallucinating.”

Oliver's stomach clenched, but he swallowed his anxiety and grabbed her glasses from the rolling table beside her bed, carefully perching them on Felicity's nose.

“How's that?” Oliver asked as gently as he could, trying not to think about how scary it must be to wake in a hospital, in pain, not able to see. He'd had plenty of experience with the first half of that and it was nothing he wanted Felicity to experience.

Felicity blinked owlishly behind her glasses, still looking behind Oliver and clutching his hand with surprising strength. “Better…no…I'm either hallucinating or we’ve been transported to Santa’s workshop.”

Oliver was so distracted by marveling at the strength of her grip and the fact that this was most words Felicity had said in days that it took him a minute to process her words. He was busy categorizing the warmth of her hand and the tone of her voice, taking in the strong heartbeat on the monitor…

But, finally, Oliver followed her gaze and looked behind him…next to him…all around them…

Oh. Dear. God.

A bark of a laugh burst from his throat and Oliver's smiled, squeezing Felicity's hand reassuringly. “If you're hallucinating, then so am I.”

Christmas had come to Felicity's hospital room. Big time. It was only then that Oliver realized it must be Christmas morning. He glanced at the clock on the wall and the still dark sky. Really early Christmas morning.

And the hospital room looked a bit like it had been attacked…or, eh hem, decorated… by drunk elves. Multicolored lights were draped haphazardly over the walls and furniture, cheap garland wrapped around chairs and iv poles, paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling.

In the corner of the room was a small, brightly lit, fake Christmas tree, sitting on top of a red plastic table that had not been there the night before. Underneath were piles of oddly shaped, and poorly wrapped, presents in cartoon Santa paper. How the hell had someone set this up without waking him? What happened to Oliver’s instincts? It was a little scary actually.

“Are you sure it’s real?” Felicity asked, still sounding groggy and confused.

Not really. But Oliver answered, “Pretty sure,” still looking around and taking it all in. It could be a dream.

“Does this always happen at Christmas? Because I’m trying to decide if I should convert or if it’s just really frickin’ creepy.”

Oliver turned his full attention back to his fiancé, the rush of words tumbling from her lips so welcome that he had to make sure that was real. She hadn’t sounded this Felicity since she was rambling on about her engagement ring in the back seat of the limo.

It was definitely her talking, though. Wide eyed and pale, messy and drawn, but mostly alert and completely herself. A wave of love and, Christ, happiness washed over Oliver, leaving relief and a goofy smile in its wake.

When Felicity’s eyes turned to Oliver’s face, she blinked up at him. “What?” She touched her face and head. “Am I dressed like an elf too?”

Oliver laughed and it was an odd sound, as if it were out of use…or, maybe it was just that for a while there, he hadn’t thought he’d ever laugh again. He reached out and stroked Felicity’s cheek. “No, baby, you just look like…you again.”

“Well, then…” Felicity actually blushed, bringing a bit of color back to her pale skin and making Oliver’s smile widen. Then she made a move to try to sit up and he grabbed for her, but not before she winced in pain.

“Whoa…Whoa…” Oliver felt uncoordinated and clumsy as he took her shoulders and tried to situate her on the bed. He knew how to be the one in the hospital bed, not how to be the caretaker. He was not good at this and Felicity…she just shouldn’t be the one in the bed. “Do you want to sit?”

“Yeah.” Felicity nodded, swallowing, either from pain or dry mouth. If Oliver’s experience taught him anything, it was probably both.

Oliver immediately found the buttons to control the bed and, carefully, brought it to a more upright position. “Tell me when?”

“That’s good.”

Oliver grabbed the water jug from next to the bed and brought it to her without asking. Felicity nodded at his wordless question and opened her mouth for the straw. He cradled her head while she drank and dropped a kiss on top of her head, smelling antiseptic and hospital and Felicity.

“Thank you,” she whispered gratefully.

Oliver replaced the jug and straightened Felicity’s pillow, looking her over, feeling lost as to what he was supposed to do next. “Is your breathing ok?”

“I think so—”

“Are you in any pain—”

“A little, but—”

Oliver grabbed the call button, pressing it three times for good measure. “I’ll get the nurse in her to give you—”

“I was going to say I’m fine,” Felicity protested, reaching for his clumsy hands, her voice still horse, but stronger.

“Felicity—”

“Oliver—”

“Well, Merry Christmas, Ms. Smoak!”

Oliver blew out a relieved breath as the nurse walked in with a cheery smile on her face. She’d know just what Felicity needed. Though, he found himself saying, “She’s Jewish,” almost on reflex.

Felicity sighed, managing to find his hand and squeeze it. “Clearly, I didn’t know what I was missing.” Her free hand gestured to the mess of Christmas merriment cluttering the room.

The nurse laughed. She had a Santa hat on her head and a candy-cane stripped lanyard with an elf pin on it so, clearly, she was in approval of whatever was going on here. “Well, whichever, holiday you celebrate,” she continued, not missing a beat as she looked over Felicity’s equipment and monitors, “you had a lovely group of elves come in last night to share some Christmas spirit.”

Oliver wanted to ask more about these ‘elves,’ because in his experience nothing was ever what it seemed, but the nurse was already examining Felicity and asking her a series of questions, so he figured it could wait. He held her hand and listened, trying not to get in the way, but not willing to step away either.

He watched Felicity’s face extra carefully as the nurse asked her to rate her pain, taking comfort in the way her fingers played with his.

“I don’t know. Like a four…maybe a five? But I don’t really seem to care much?” Felicity’s eyes flicked to Oliver’s and he did his best to smile reassuringly. “Does that even make sense?”

The nurse just laughed. “It certainly does, dear. The dilaudid is even better at making you not care about the pain, then making it go away.”

“Do you need more?” Oliver asked, unable to keep the tension from his voice, because Felicity shouldn’t have pain. None. Not one bit.

“No,” Felicity answered immediately, making Oliver frown. She pulled her gaze from his and looked at the nurse pleadingly. “I want to stay awake for a while. Please. I’m fine, really.”

Oliver clasped her hand more firmly, asking her in all seriousness, “Are you sure? You don’t have to be tough for me. I just want you to be comfortable.”

Felicity gave him that soft adoring look that he lived for, but her voice was firm when she said, “I’m certain. I’m foggy enough as it is.”

The nurse’s smile was happy and indulgent, a far cry from the tense, pitying looks of last week. “Just call if you need me.” Then the nurse produced a shiny Christmas card and handed it to Oliver. “From your Elves.”

It read:

Felicity & Oliver,

Because Jewish or Christian, you're both definitely on the nice list.

Love Santa

Then scrawled in the corner:

Santa brought some treats don't forget to eat something.

And in small, sharp letters on the bottom:

P.S. There are limited shopping opportunities on Christmas Eve, so please adjust your expectations.

“Oh my,” Felicity breathed, her free hand over her mouth.

Oliver smiled so wide it felt strange on his face. “That's Thea's handwriting,” he pointed to the main handwriting, then to the tiny scrawl on the bottom. “And that's Laurel.”

He didn't think about it much, but that the two most important romantic relationships of his life history, could put that aside and be genuine friends meant so much to him. It allowed Oliver to remain close to Laurel despite everything. Yet, the most amazing part was that he knew that their relationship had absolutely nothing to do with him and everything to do with these phenomenal women.

“But I'm not sure who this is in the corner, it's definitely not Digg—”

“It’s my mom,” Felicity murmured and it was hard to tell if her voice was rough with emotion or from being recently intubated. “We have a pretty great family.”

“Yeah.”

They smiled at each other and Oliver leaned forward to press his lips to hers. He didn’t expect Felicity to kiss him back, but she did and he lingered. Her lips were chapped, but warm and soft, and perfectly familiar. It must be Christmas magic because for the first time in weeks it felt like everything was going to be ok.

Oliver didn't realize that he had pulled back and was staring at her until Felicity asked softly, “What?”

Smiling, Oliver just shook his head. “Just wondering if this isn't a dream after all.”

Felicity laughed softly. “Well, if this is a dream, it's a pretty darn good one.” She crooked her finger at him and Oliver followed gladly, meeting her for another soft, lingering kiss, slow and shallow, reconnecting, worshipful.

When Felicity pulled back, her smile was almost too bright for her tired eyes. “Can we open our presents now?”

It almost brought tears to Oliver’s eyes. This, the look of Felicity's face right then, bright with excitement, this was Christmas to him. This is what he'd been missing these last nine years.

“Of course,” Oliver managed, his voice rough and raspy. He was glad for the brief reprieve of walking to the tree and scooping up a small pile of presents. Placing the gifts on Felicity's lap, he perched himself by her hip.

If possible, Felicity's face lit up even more when he handed her a large, soft present with her name on it. She struggled a bit opening it, being weak and encumbered with tubes and wires.

It dimmed Oliver's pleasure some, reminding him, again, that they were in a hospital room and not their living room as they should be. But he forced an encouraging smile onto his face and placed his hand over hers to help her grip and rip open the wrapping paper.

Felicity didn't get discouraged for a moment, though when the paper fell away she was out of breath. But she gave a soft, happy laugh as it revealed a fluffy and garish sky-blue blanket littered with snowmen and large purple snowflakes.

Oliver chuckled at the choice. “Here.” He removed the last of the wrapping and flapped the blanket over the dull gray-white hospital bedding.

“Now even I'm decorated,” Felicity declared, sounding delighted.

“You certainly are.”

She actually matched the ridiculous decorations perfectly. They were a far cry from the classy decorations of his childhood, but Oliver had to admit that they were fun. And, more importantly, they made Felicity smile. Maybe he should let Thea and Donna decorate every year.

"Now you open one," Felicity commanded.

And, as usual, Oliver obeyed. Still smiling, he grabbed a smaller, soft present with his name on it. He was watching Felicity more than the gift, honestly not expecting much—

“What the hell?!”

Felicity's giggles were quickly muffled as she pressed both of her hands over her mouth, lifting them only long enough to choke out, “Oh please, please, put it on.”

Oliver frowned down at the offending item. Under any other circumstances he would probably refuse, but how was he going to say ‘no’ to Felicity, sitting in a hospital bed, giggling, ring glinting in the Christmas lights?

Sighing, Oliver pulled on the reindeer hat, complete with a huge red pom-pom nose and soft red and green ornaments hanging from the antlers.

Squealing, Felicity implored, “Squeeze the…hoof thingy.” She pointed to the long reindeer legs dangling over his shoulder.

In for a pound…. Oliver squeezed the bulbous hoof and could feel fluttering on his head. “It’s hands are waving aren’t they?” he sighed.

Felicity’s head bobbed ‘yes’ in the most adorable manner. Oliver would be humiliated if she wasn't so damn ecstatic.

“I will convert if you promise to wear that every year,” Felicity declared, beaming.

Leveling her a look, Oliver shook his head. “You know the mere fact that I'm wearing this now is absolute proof of how much I love you.”

Felicity nodded happily and enthusiastically and Oliver kissed her smile, because how could he not.

When he pulled back, Oliver declared, “Your turn. I hope it's hideous.” He ripped off the corner of the package before giving it to her this time to make it easier to open.

Giggling, Felicity tore off the paper. “I think the pain meds are making me giddier than usual.”

“I'm not noticing a difference.”

“Funny.” Felicity gave Oliver a halfhearted reproving look as she pulled out a blue sparkly headband with a huge star of David on top. A clearance sticker was still attached, dangling from the side.

Oliver perched it on Felicity's head with a wide grin. “Perfect!”

Felicity straightened it over her ears and asked, snickering, “How do I look? Hideous enough for you?”

“You look beautiful,” Oliver declared without hesitation, because it was true. She looked ridiculous, but beautiful.

Felicity rolled her eyes, though her smile didn't dim. “Please, I don't even want to know when my last shower was.”

Oliver shrugged. “I'm available to give sponge baths any time you wish.”

“I'm sure you are,” Felicity said wryly. Then she handed him the last of the gifts he had brought over from the larger pile under the tree. “More presents.”

This one was much smaller and when he opened it, Oliver let out a huff of a laugh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“What?”

Pulling over the rolling table, he slid it in front of Felicity and wound up the small plastic reindeer, which was a theme apparently, and placed it on the tray. Immediately, it started to poop red and green candy.

Felicity burst out laughing. Which really would have been wonderful, but this was a full body laugh that quickly turned into a full body cough that frankly freaked Oliver the fuck out. He yanked the table out of the way, with a little too much strength, and fumbled for the water jug.

“I’m o—” Felicity tried to reassure him, but broke off because she couldn’t talk while hacking.

“You are not, ok,” Oliver told her as gently as he could, which turned out to be rather fiercely, as he placed a hand on the back of her neck and lifted her to the water jug. “Just drink.”

She managed to do just that and the coughing eventually started to subside. Finally, Felicity pushed the jug aside, taking gasping breaths.

Oliver rubbed her chest the way he had seen the Respiratory Therapists do and whispered, “I’ll call the nurse back. You should have a breathing treatment.”

But Felicity shook her head. “I’m ok.”

At least she was able to say it this time. “I’m calling—”

Oliver reached for the call button, but Felicity stilled him with a hand on his.

“Really.” She cleared her throat. “I’m breathing fine. Just…too much excitement, I guess.” Felicity managed a wide, tired smile and even the remnant of a giggle as she laid both her hands over the palm he had splayed on her chest. Licking her dried lips, she was even able to say evenly, “I think I’m good now.”

“Well, then,” Oliver conceded, his own heart rate returning to normal, “I think that’s enough Santa gifts for now, then. We’ll save some of the ‘excitement’ for later.’”

“Awww,” Felicity whined, but didn’t protest further, just squeezed his hand and smiled up at him.

Oliver turned his hand over to lace with hers and brought it to his lips. “I wish I had something to give you,” he confessed, not realizing how true it was until he said it.

Felicity smiled mischievously and wagged her fingers at him, ring flashing. “I thought I already got my gift.”

God, he loved seeing that ring on her finger. Oliver pressed a kiss to her ring finger, right above the diamond, protesting, “It was never my intention for this to be your Christmas gift.”

“Not Christian. Don’t need a Christmas gift,” Felicity argued, almost as if by habit. “Also, this is pretty hard to top.” Then pointing a finger at him, she admonished, “That is not a challenge. So don’t even think about it!”

Oliver chuckled. Unfortunately, he could no longer afford to take that challenge and spoil her the way he would like to. “So, no car then?” he teased. Though he had serious plans for an armor plated SUV with bullet proof glass.

“I don’t think that would fit under the tree.”

The keys would, but Oliver decided not to press that one.

“Anyways, I didn’t get a chance to get you anything at all.” Felicity’s smile dimmed for the first time. “I had some pretty good ideas. Though, none of them involved reindeer. I wasn’t aware how important reindeer gifts are.”

“Please, no more reindeer,” Oliver tried to joke, but he lost his smile as he reached out to stroke her cheek. “Felicity, baby, I…just having you here…you surviving…” Oliver buried his face in her hand and took deep breathes to steady his voice, but even then it wobbled when he spoke. “It’s the best present I could ever get.”

"Oliver…”

The look on Felicity’s face was loving, but also kind of devastated, so Oliver kissed her, because he really wouldn’t be able to hold it together if she started crying. The kiss was harder this time, because, apparently, he was losing control and he pulled away much quicker than he would have liked to keep from hurting her.

Felicity ran her hand over his cheek as he sat back, her lips turning up softly. “I’m sorry Christmas came to this. Survival being the best present you could get…those are some seriously lowered standards.”

Huffing out a small laugh, Oliver shook his head. “No,” he gestured to the room, “this is, honestly, the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time.”

Tilting her head, Felicity held up a handful of iv tubes and wires. “Ummm. Seriously?”

Again, she made him laugh, which was wonderful and unexpected and broke the high emotional tension. Thank God. Oliver knew that’s why she was arguing with him. Felicity understood how he felt. She always did.

“Yes. Seriously. This year I have you.”

That wiped all humor off of Felicity’s face and, again, she looked like she was about to cry. Happy tears, but still. “Oliver…” her voice cracked. “You know, that’s sappy even for you.”

Oliver grinned, even as he thought that Felicity was even better at him at avoiding strong feelings than he was. Her sharp wit was a spectacular defense. “To be fair, it’s been a long time since a holiday gave any serious competition. It’s not the way I imagined spending Christmas morning, but as long as it’s with you…”

“Ok, you’re just intent on making me cry, aren’t you?” Felicity sniffled and Oliver smiled.

He leaned down and pressed a short kiss to her lips, which Felicity tried to prolong, but Oliver backed off whispering, “As long as they are happy tears,” against her mouth before rubbing her nose with his. “And beside being giddy with relief that you are ok, we have the added benefit of being in Santa’s workshop.”

He wagged his eyebrows at her and Felicity giggled, clearly relieved at the change of subject. “It’s pretty magical.” Her eyes wandered the room and her smile faded a bit. “It’s amazing to have people in our lives who would go through this kind of trouble.” Her lip trembled and Oliver squeezed her hand. It was a truly incredible thing.

Oliver again looked around at the bright twinkling lights. “You know, I think this may be the best Christmas I’ve had since I stopped believing in Santa.”

“When was that?”

“When I was seven.”

“Ok…” Felicity’s voice changed and she squeezed his hand, bringing Oliver’s gaze back to her. “I’m no expert, but that seems really young to stop believing.”

Oliver shrugged. “I don’t think my parents…well, my mother was all that into the whole Santa thing. She wasn’t really the kind of person to condone believing in magic.” Part of him thought that it had been too undignified for her, but he kept that less than kind thought to himself. “When this kid at school told me there wasn’t any Santa, I asked my mom and she told me it was true. My dad was pissed, but she said that she didn’t feel right lying to me.”

Felicity scoffed at that. “Well, that’s ironic.”

“Yup.”

Oliver found it really hard to defend Moira, even though some part of him felt like he should. But he remembered how crushing it had been, how he had hidden under the stairs and cried. How Christmas had never been the same.

He had imagined a million times what he would say to his child if posed with the same situation and had come up with dozens of ways to keep a child’s belief alive without outright lying. When Oliver was younger at least he was able to forgive his mother by telling himself that she was just being truthful, but after everything…

Wow, Oliver hadn’t thought about this in forever. It wasn’t as if all his childhood Christmases were bad after that. Tommy spent most holidays with them after his mother died and that was kinda great. Then Thea was born and…

Oliver smiled. “Now Thea, she believed in Santa forever. She couldn’t care less who told her he wasn’t real. She’d tell them they were wrong, flat out. She believed and no one was going to convince her otherwise.”

Felicity laughed, her smile soft and a little relieved. “That sounds like Thea.”

She really was a fun kid and Oliver never enjoyed having a baby sister more than he did at the holidays. “We did it different for Thea. We made reindeer food out of glitter and oatmeal, and when she sent a letter to Santa, he wrote her back. Mom hated it, but we even put soot footprints—”

“’We’ or ‘you’?” Felicity laced their fingers together again. “Why do I have the feeling that the difference between yours and Thea’s Christmases was that she had you to make it special.”

Oliver swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable with how Felicity seemed to see right through him sometimes. He brought her fingertips to his lips, but stared past her at the decorations his sister had hung for them. He had been her Santa then and now Thea was his.

“You know they have these elves now,” Oliver told her, not sure why his mind went there next. “They call them Elf on the Shelf. They sit, well on a shelf, all Christmas season and tell Santa if kids are being good or bad. They have great pictures on Pinterest—”

“Pinterest?” Felicity repeated with an amused snort.

Leveling a glare and a lopsided smile at her, Oliver asked in a mock Arrow tone, “Do you have a problem with Pinterest, Felicity?”

“No. No.” Felicity shook her head, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “I think Pinterest is the clear choice of social media for the Green Arrow.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes at her, but couldn’t keep up the pretense and ended up with a wide smile. “You must be feeling better if you’re sassing me.”

Felicity’s grin lit the room better than the Christmas tree. “Sassing you does make me feel better.”

It was his turn to chuckle at that. “Well, go ahead and sass me, but don’t sass the elf. He’s a direct line to Santa.”

“Santa already came,” Felicity argued, gesturing toward the still bountiful tree with her chin.

“What about next year? Next year’s naughty and nice list has already been started.”

"Next year, you can have an Elf on the Shelf all your own.”

Oliver rolled his eyes at her silliness. “I think I can wait until we have kids…”

He trailed off, feeling a flash of panic even as the words left his mouth. It was bad enough that he had let slip his secret wish to have kids when Felicity had just gotten used to the idea of marrying him, but now the whole idea was tainted by the fact that Oliver actually had a kid. A kid he was hiding from his new fiancé.

Oliver didn’t even know what William was doing this Christmas. God, he hadn’t even thought about it.

Warring emotions and guilt flooded him. He was a terrible father. A terrible fiancé. Oliver wanted to be better and, damn it…none of it was going to get better until he came clean with Felicity and told her the truth.

Felicity tilted her head and looked at him curiously. Oliver knew that look. She realized there was something he wasn’t telling her and was waiting patiently for him to say it. Because she trusted him. And he had betrayed that trust.

Oliver wanted to confess so badly at that moment. He wanted to bare his soul and ask for forgiveness.

But that was selfish. Selfish on so many levels.

The shooting just exemplified how important it was that William being Oliver’s son was kept a secret. Felicity may have chosen this life, but William did not. He was completely defenseless. Confessing this particular secret in a public hospital was beyond stupid.

When Oliver had thought of his son over the last two weeks, he had resolved not to contact him or speak of him until Darhk was out of commission for good. Under no circumstances could HIVE know William existed.

And, God, what would such a confession do to Felicity at this moment? As much as Oliver regretted not telling her right away, the last thing she needed was the stress and worry the admission would cause her now. It could set her back medically. She would push him away and she needed him right then. As much as Oliver needed her.

“Oliver, what’s wrong?”

Apparently, Felicity was done patiently waiting for him to tell her.

“I just…” Oliver swallowed. He refused to lie to her. “I’m just realizing how fragile the future is. I can’t lose you, Felicity.”

Oliver had never spoken truer words. Even though Felicity thought he was talking about her getting hurt. And he was. But he was also imagining her throwing the ring in his face after he told her about William. And that thought was almost as terrifying.

“Hey,” Felicity admonished quietly, pulling on his hand until he shifted closer and she could run her nails through his stubble, making Oliver close his eyes and hum. The sensation never failed to relax him. “You aren’t losing me. I’m better. So, no sad thoughts. This is our first Christmas together. My first Christmas ever, really.”

Oliver pressed a kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers.

“Actually,” Felicity confessed, “I was kinda worried that it was thought of having children together that gave you that face.”

He rolled his forehead against hers, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. “Only at the idea of losing you before we could have them.”

Felicity sucked in her breath with a hiss. “Sweerhear—”

“And then, of course, there’s whether we could keep a baby safe and if it’s selfish to even want one with the life we lead.” Which was much closer to the heart of the matter, wasn’t it? He wanted children with Felicity. Badly. But if he couldn’t keep William safe, if he couldn’t keep her safe, what right did he have bringing a baby into the world.

“It’s not selfish, Oliver. You are not selfish,” Felicity insisted, but she always did see the best in him. “If that’s what you want, then we’ll figure something out to keep them safe.”

It was always so simple for her. “Oh I want,” Oliver confessed gruffly. It wasn’t the first time in the last two weeks that he felt the urge to pack her up and move back to Ivytown without looking back. Start a family. Never step foot in this cursed city again.

Felicity pulled him out of his conflicted thoughts by shifting back from him abruptly, her eyes widening. “Though, when I said I said you can have an elf next Christmas I meant for you. You can’t have a baby for Christmas, I mean by next Christmas. No babies as Christmas presents. That’s just not an appropriate gift. If you want an elf for a baby, then you’ll have to wait a few Christmases…or several. Several is a better word…I’m babbling and you’re smiling, so…”

Oliver was smiling. Fiercely so. Because his dismal thoughts about keeping a family safe had faded in the joy that was his fiancée. He took her face in his hands, saying, “Do you have any idea how much I prayed for a good Felicity babble. Now I know you’re going to be ok.”

She blushed again, further improving her color. “As always, I’m glad that my embarrassing rambles give you so much pleasure.”

Smoothing her hair around her face, Oliver laid a curl over her shoulder. “Felicity, as long as I can spend the rest of my life with you, all the rest is details.”

Just seeing her here like this, listening to her, Oliver felt like maybe it would all work out. They could find a way. They always did. He straightened the star of David on her head, smiling. “I’ll even convert the Judaism if you want. Wait…do you want? Do you want to raise our kids Jewish?”

Oliver hadn’t really thought about that. Not that he cared. He wasn’t exactly a church every Sunday kind of guy. But this was something engaged couples talked about, right? Wow…how had he gone from their children would be in mortal danger to what religion they were raised in under five minutes?

But Felicity was talking about several years from now. Anything could happen in several years. They could figure it out. Together.

“I…” Felicity was staring at him with something like wonder on her face. “Wow. Give me a minute to wrap my head around the fact that Oliver Queen just initiated a question about our future children’s religious upbringing.”

Now Oliver was blushing. “Felicity—”

“Ok, sorry. I just…I love you.”

Now Oliver was getting choked up again. It really was the best Christmas he could remember. “I love you too.”

Beaming at him, Felicity ran a hand down his chest. “But I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of playing Santa and his elf. I want our children…our future hypothetical children…to have the full experience of both our cultures.”

“Sounds perfect.” And Felicity was perfect, even sitting in a hospital bed healing from three bullet wounds.

When Oliver leaned in to kiss her, Felicity yawned and even that was perfectly adorable. He started to pull back, but she latched onto his hair.

“Come back,” she whined, making Oliver chuckle into the kiss.

He gave them a few minutes to gently explore each other’s lips, before whispering against her mouth, “I think it may be time for you to rest again.”

Felicity shook her head, but her body betrayed her and she yawned again, her eyelids sagging. “Not before…” another yawn she couldn’t smother, “that Christmas breakfast I was promised.”

Oliver’s eyebrows flew up and he slid back into caretaker mode. “Are you hungry?” It was good if she was hungry. Felicity hadn’t eaten in days, surviving on the glucose from the iv fluids. Wait…was she allowed to eat?

“A little,” Felicity confessed, trying to sit up more, eventually finding the button on the bed to raise her head.

“Ok, let me call the nurse—”

“No!” Felicity grabbed the call button before Oliver could press it this time. “I want treats. Not Jell-O and broth.”

“Hmmm.” Oliver suppressed a smile, knowing he was going to give in. “How do you know they didn’t bring us something healthy? They said breakfast, not treats.” But he was already up and searching the room for the promised goodies.

Felicity gave him a look. “Come on. It’s Thea and my mom.”

“Both of whom are in excellent shape and you know Laurel is a health nut.” He looked back over his shoulder to see Felicity pout and he chuckled. Then he spotted two soft coolers not far from the tree. “Here we go, let’s see—oooh Cinnamon Rolls.”

“Yay! I knew our elves wouldn’t fail us now.”

Oliver laughed out loud. “You are certainly getting into this Christmas thing.” He lifted out the rolls and smelled them. They were somehow still warm. “Not quite the ones Raisa made for Christmas morning, but they look good. There’s fruit salad, clearly Laurel’s contribution. And they gave us a thermos,” he untwisted it and smelled, “of eggnog.”

“Ooo. Does it have rum?”

“You can’t have rum!” Oliver couldn’t imagine they would do such a thing, but as Felicity said with Thea and Donna anything was possible, so he sipped it. “No rum.”

“Damn.”

“Do you really think I’d let you have rum with those meds you’re—ah, I think I found what they got for you and it’s better than rum.” Oliver turned to Felicity, triumphantly holding up a container of Candy Cane-Chocolate Chip Ice Cream.

Felicity squealed, holding out her hands. “Gimme!”

Grinning, Oliver grabbed a spoon and came back to sit on her bed, allowing himself the indulgence of spoon feeding his fiancé ice cream. It was surely one of life’s truest pleasures.

His eyes found the nutrition facts automatically…wow. Good thing she needed the calories. Know what? Didn’t matter. The way Felicity closed her eyes and hummed after each bite was definitely worth the ridiculously high fat content.

After a few bites, Felicity’s eyes stopped opening in between mouthfuls and she yawned yet again. Oliver stole as bite for himself before saying, “Baby, you need a nap. I promise to save the rest of the ice cream for when you wake up.”

“Don’t wanna,” Felicity mumbled, but her eyelids barely fluttered.

“I promise I’ll be here the whole time. I’m not going further than the bathroom.”

Felicity fumbled for his hand and gave a weak squeeze. “k…but just for a little. Don’t want to sleep Christmas away.”

Oliver moved to lower her bed. He wondered if he should take off that silly Star of David head—

“Oh, wait. Just a second, sweetheart. We need to do one more thing before you fall asleep.”

Oliver grabbed for his phone as Felicity blinked open her eyes to look at him curiously. He smiled broadly as he came to stand next to her.

“Now, I don’t usually do the selfie thing, so I may need some help.”

 

  
* * * * * * * * * *

 

  
Thea was bundled up in her warm pjs, under several fluffy blankets watching the Disney Christmas Parade when her phone buzzed. Laurel had just handled her one of her fabulous Peppermint Mochas, complete with candy cane, and Thea had to juggle the steaming cup to get to her phone.

It was worth it.

She smiled when she saw Oliver’s name, a little flutter of anticipation in her belly as she imagined what he might say about their surprise. The text said, “Thank You,” but it was the attached picture that had Thea bursting out with a delighted laugh.

“What is it?” Laurel asked, snuggling up next to her.

Thea, honestly, didn’t trust herself to speak, so she handed the phone over. She wasn’t sure what got her more, Oliver in that ridiculous reindeer hat, looking the happiest she’d see him in a decade or Felicity, bright-eyed, smiling, and animated, her temple pressed against Oliver’s. Oh God, Thea was going to start to cry again.

“Mmm,” Laurel hummed, a pleased smile spreading across her face. “You did good.”

Throwing her arm around her surrogate sister, Thea hugged Laurel close. “No, we did good.”

Thea stared at the picture for a full ten minutes. Maybe she wouldn’t cancel Christmas after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Christmas is over and this got long and ungainly and kinda angsty in the middle when it was supposed to be candy cane fluff, but hopefully the reindeer hat made up for it. 
> 
> I do have some ideas for follow ups to this, but for now I’m working on getting my William fic, _When Life Implodes_ edited to, hopefully, be up by this weekend. If you liked this check out that and my other stories on AO3. And don't forget to let me know what you think!
> 
> Happy New Year!
> 
> Emmy

**Author's Note:**

> I had really envisioned this as a quick fluffy one-shot, but as often happens, when I actually sat down to write it tripled in length. And my first shot at Thea POV turned very angsty. The second half of this is Oliver and Felicity’s Christmas morning and pure fluff. I really wanted to have it posted on the actual day, but, unfortunately, that's not going to happen (It’s only about half written). The new goal is to have it out before I travel up north for the second half of break and hope people are still feeling the Christmas Spirit. 
> 
> This chapter had a lot of references to earlier Arrow. I thought I could get away with just rewatching the 4 Christmas episodes, but it was really hard to keep track of who knows what about which events. I do want this piece to be cannon until 4x09 so if anyone notices a mistake, please let me know and I will try to fix it. 
> 
> Thank up you for reading. Please let me know what you think (comments are the best gifts) and have a fabulous holiday! I wish everyone plenty of magic no matter which holiday you celebrate! 
> 
> Emmy


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